Passion - Poem by David Lomenick
my passion for you,
you may never know,
so why is it that we hide all our love behind something called hate?
why do we even hate when we know we will die soon anyway?
to say we love may be a lie,
but to say we hate also is.
my passion for love may never be witnessed,
but witnessed is love that has never been seen.
Comments about Passion by David Lomenick
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl